


all we have is time

by Julx3tte



Series: hidden beneath the kissing folds and lily pads [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Football | Soccer Player Ginny Weasley, Light Whump, Slice of Life, World Cup, a little kissing too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25141030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julx3tte/pseuds/Julx3tte
Summary: The doctor, it turned out, was a huge fan.“Well, I’m sorry you had to come in to see us tonight,” he said in a professional voice. He still seemed star struck - every time he looked at a nurse, his eyes gleamed.“Unfortunately the prognosis is worst-case...."Ginny faces the biggest challenge of her young career days after reaching the peak of her field. Or: how to be a savior and in your early-20s, Ginny edition feat. navigating and revolving young adult boundaries, healthy parental figures, and a partner that loves you.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: hidden beneath the kissing folds and lily pads [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/927366
Comments: 9
Kudos: 42





	all we have is time

**Author's Note:**

> hinny back in the calendar! I really thought this would be more angsty, but I am pleasantly surprised it's.... not. Thanks for reading!

Harry watched the game from the VIP box in awe.

Ginny flew through the pitch as if she belonged on the grandest stage of them all. She was a late game sub, and her fresh legs transformed the American attack from stuttering to suffocating. In just a few short minutes, Ginny’s presence forced counter attack after counter attack from the right wing, pushing the ball deep into the other team’s side.

It didn’t take her long to find the moment.

The defenders had run themselves ragged after her, and, finally, Ginny let the center fielders take the ball up, and patiently waited back.

She was waiting for something. Harry bit his finger in anticipation. The stadium was watching in silence.

Then, the defender assigned to Ginny slipped. It was a half-second loss of position, but it was enough.

Ginny tore through the side of the pitch, raising a hand to signal a cross before cutting back in towards the goalpost.

It was a clean shot. The ball came right to her, but at the last second, a defender got a touch on it, changing its trajectory.

Ginny pushed with everything she had and kicked her leg out. The ball would land less than a half foot too far away if she was too slow. Just a second to touch it would be enough. 

From the stands, Harry could see the sheer willpower sending Ginny flying towards the ball. 

Her foot made contact. The ball soared in an arc just above the reach of the goalie, and the stadium erupted. 

Her attack had broken the impasse, putting the Americans ahead after a grueling 115 minute stalemate, and Harry yelped. He’d never been more proud of her in his life. He jumped and screamed with the rest of her family and his. 

On the pitch, Ginny was so enthralled at watching the ball sail that she didn’t notice the player in front of her. A center back had tried to intercept her and was late - her foot was about to collide into her face. 

Harry caught her spinning out of the corner of his eye and watched as she pulled her leg out of the way of the defender’s face and spun out of control. 

She landed roughly on the pitch, and he knew something was wrong immediately. He grabbed his phone and jacket and rushed out of the VIP box, sprinting down the stairs, leaving Ron wondering where he was off to. 

Harry flashed his VIP badge to get through locker room security, and ran out to the pitch. By the time he was out there, the rest of the stadium had realized what had happened.

They didn’t dare replay it, not on the jumbotron. But viewers at home would see the slow motion view of Ginny spinning out of the way to avoid kicking a defender in the face and being unable to control her descent. She landed heel-first on the pitch and winced in pain.

The team rushed her, but as she pushed herself off to stand with them, she collapsed again. Her knee had given out. 

In the crucial moments of the World Cup Final.

Harry had made it all the way out past the benches before he could see her face. She wasn’t crying - of course not. But as soon as he caught her eye, he could tell that she knew the celebration would be short lived.

* * *

The pitch-side medics had helped her onto crutches and taped ice around her leg, but Ginny asked to stay through the post game festivities and be part of the press conference. The game had all but ended, so it was a simple enough request. 

“No, I’m no hero,” she said, deflecting a pointed question from some sports reporter from somewhere. Ginny was glad she’d taken media lessons from Mr. Potter. “The team was heroic. I was just lucky to be in the right position at the right time.” 

“How’s your leg, Miss Weasley?”

“Well, there’ll be an MRI at the hospital, but the trainers here said it’d be fine to wait at least until after I’d gotten to kiss the cup,” she said, smiling.

Deflect, be charming, and give the team the credit. That was the gist of the advice James Potter had given her. It came surprisingly naturally, but it probably wasn’t all the training. Ginny could feel a gnawing anxiety in her stomach - Harry and some of her teammates could see it clearly, but she pushed it down. 

She wouldn’t be robbed of celebrating, of kissing the Cup, and of enjoying the fruits of years of hard work. No, that was the last thing she’d let happen.

But she hit her leg hard, and even without watching the replay, she knew this wouldn’t be a quick recovery.

Worse than that, three minutes on the pitch at the right time meant that she was now a superstar and household name, and that didn’t sit well with her yet. 

She certainly didn’t want the fame. She had been content being the young apprentice on the senior team, getting garbage time minutes, not expecting to play at all in the final. From training camp onwards, she had been focused on each moment she got to step out on the pitch, not sure it would be her last. 

But this was the first time the Americans had captured the cup in 8 years. Despite their domination on the world stage, this had eluded the two previous teams - and for their young apprentice to score the game winner, well.

Under the table, Ginny pulled on the hems of her shorts and balled the fabric in her fist to hide her frustration. She’d head to the hospital for an MRI and a consultation and likely spend the rest of the night in the hotel room before flying back home.

Tonight, the rest of the team would celebrate at the hotel, hit the bars, and dance the night away. She wouldn’t be there.

But at least Harry would keep her company.

The ambulance to the hospital was a quiet ride. Harry sat at her side, holding her hand, and her leg stretched out safely. 

There was a comfortable silence between them, but Ginny could feel Harry itching to say something. So she nudged him.

He glanced over at her.

“You look more anxious than I do,” she said.

Harry flashed her a nervous smile. 

“You were brilliant out there,” he replied. He hadn’t gotten much of a chance to speak to her since he was by her side on the pitch. “Never seen anything like it.”

‘Pfft,” she replied, blowing him a raspberry. “I’m just glad it’s over.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short Gin! I mean I know you didn’t expect to be out there, but you are officiall-”

“Oh don’t say it-”

“Queen weasley” Harry said, proudly. It was twitter’s nickname for her. 

Ginny pretended like she hadn’t heard it and buried her face in her hands.

“Oh come on, it’s endearing,” said Harry. “As your brand manager…”

“You’re my manager too now?”

“Boyfriend doesn’t look too great on a professional bio, I think.”

Ginny shrugged. “I mean, then you’d be _King_ Weasley.”

“Not yet - that’s later. I mean. Uh...” Harry stopped short, catching himself. That was… a topic they’d wait to discuss once their careers were underway. 

“Don’t worry let’s just enjoy my newfound fame eclipsing yours for now,” she said, and they settled back into silence.

Ginny was grateful that Harry left the unsaid bits lay. There would be more to process in the coming nights, but he always let them happen on her terms.

For now, that was enough. Enough to take her mind off of the fact that she should be out celebrating, not in the back of an ambulance. It was enough that he sat with her here, waiting for the prognosis of the next year of her life. 

* * *

The doctor, it turned out, was a huge fan. 

“Well, I’m sorry you had to come in to see us tonight,” he said in a professional voice. He still seemed star struck - every time he looked at a nurse, his eyes gleamed.

“Unfortunately the prognosis is worst-case. Full ACL tear. I’ll spare you the... video analysis… but one benefit of having the incident captured on camera is that the biomechanics are clear. The good news is that it’s a clean break. This makes surgery rather straightforward and simple. With good PT, 8 or 9 months and you’ll be back on the pitch. Conservatively, a year before you’re back to, well, today’s form.”

She let the comment drop. It wasn’t the time to think about her peak performance.

“How soon do we need to do the surgery?” Ginny asked instead, gripping her phone tightly. It had been buzzing every other second, so she set it to silent. Still, it was her key to what felt like the rest of the world. 

Ginny focused on getting the information she needed. 

“Theoretically you could wait a few days. It’s urgent but not immediate, and it might be better to wait for the swelling to go down. I wouldn’t wait much longer than that, though. Luckily, our hospital has experienced sports medicine surgeons - we operate on high level athletes on a regular basis. If we schedule for the morning, you’ll be able to fly home before the end of the week.”

“Okay. I’ll have to talk to the team and my club manager, but that sounds good.”

“You can go back to the hotel tonight if you’d like. No need to spend this night in a dreary hospital. Once you’ve talked to your team’s physicians, just come back in.”

“Thanks doc,” she said.

* * *

“Need anything Gin?” Harry asked. He was being such a worrywart, arranging towels and belongings and clothes, pre-packing bags, and sending emails on his laptop.

The conversation with the team trainers was straightforward. Surgery soon was the best option. Her club trainers would get involved in the PT once she was back home, but until then, the first steps were the same. The national team people would handle everything from hospital transport to the flights home and the club team would take over after a few weeks of stay at home recovery.

With so much of the logistics taken care of, the first 12 hours of a major injury involved more downtime than Ginny had expected.

Harry, though, didn’t catch the memo. 

“Harry, I need you to stop,” she said. “Everything is fine, things are taken care of. Just come sit here for a minute and calm down.”

“Sorry Gin, just want to make sure things ar-”

Ginny cut him off with a stare.

“Sorry,” he said, putting down the toiletry bag in his hands and coming to lay with her on the bed.

Earlier, the rest of the team came by to check in. Ginny couldn’t go out with them, so they brought the champagne to her, taking plenty of selfies with the Cup as they rotated who got to hold it. They didn’t stay long, but it meant a lot for them to include her in what festivities she could.

The anxiety growing in her stomach eased a bit after the doctor’s and seeing the rest of the team, but not having a detailed PT plan was eating away at her. That, and that Harry was being quite the mother hen right now. 

“How’re you doing,” Harry asked next to her.

It took her a minute to figure out what she wanted to say to him.

“I just wonder what’s going to change,” she said, sighing, “when things go back to normal.”

Harry, bless him, read her train of thought. After a beat, he spoke.

“You’re worried about how to keep working while you’re recovering, yeah?” 

Ginny nodded. “I’m gonna be a mess in a few weeks I bet,” she confessed.

It would be a boring summer. With nothing to do, no teammates or workouts to keep her occupied, and with school still out. 

“So you’re saying keep pissing you off, yeah?” he said, grinning.

“God no. If you keep acting like my mother I’m going to beat you upside the head with a crutch.”

Harry made a face.

“I love you, yeah? I know you’re gonna want to do this with me but I need to figure this one out for myself,” Ginny said, eyes searching Harry’s for affirmation. Their relationship was theirs but her injury was hers. “You don’t need to try to make this easier for me”

Harry, who held her hand with both of his, kissed her on the knuckle. 

Ginny pulled him into a kiss, arms warped around his back.

* * *

_(3 weeks post-op)._

“Harry, wait-” Ginny yelled, too late. Harry had turned the corner and was out the door before she realized she did need him to grab one more thing for her. By the time she texted him, he’d be minutes down the street and he’d be delayed even longer.

“Dammit,” she cursed.

Physical Therapy was… well, there was a reason ACL tears were a nightmare for even the best of the best athletes.

Getting used to crutches took two full weeks, and this week the goal was to begin light biking to increase her knee’s range of motion. 

It was dreadful. Thankfully there wasn’t any pain, but by the end of even a few minutes on the bike, her body was spent, and all she wanted to do was lay on the couch.

Which was exactly what she was doing as Harry was on his way out.

The worst part, though, was the mental stress. Three weeks ago, Ginny was the best in the world - the woman of the match, World Cup scoring - no, winning athlete.

Now, she couldn’t even flex her knee past 75 degrees without struggling.

There was something humbling and absolutely maddening about it, and all of Ginny’s work ethic screamed at her to keep doing rehab, keep adding extra exercise, and keep pushing. Even though she knew it wouldn’t help.

This was a time thing, now, and risking injury would only do worse for her mental stamina.

She pushed off the couch, grabbed her crutches, and made her way to the kitchen to refill her water. Stupid that she needed Harry to do such a simple thing, but it was three extra steps to put her water down on the counter, lay a crutch against the fridge, grab the Brita, fill the water, and put it all back before picking the crutch up again.

Every added step reminded her of the long path ahead. Today wasn’t so bad, but as she sat around, watched her teammates on TV shout her out, and tried not to read too many of the comments on her public Instagram, the maddening feeling of sitting still grew.

It wasn’t the glory Ginny wanted - but the activity. Laying low was fine - she’d done exactly that until the Final, and she didn’t let her newfound fame get to her head (despite the rather awkward article about her dating James Potter’s son and his visit during camp).

No, the stillness was driving her crazy. Relying on Harry coming over for little things ate at her sanity. And - not getting better, not being able to build off of her very best - it gnawed at her like an itch in the back of her head.

Ginny took a few deep breaths and sighed. She’d see a sports psychologist about it all soon. Today’s work was done. 

* * *

_(5 weeks post-op)_

Ginny tried to ignite the heaps of praise from sports commentators, twitter fans, and friends texting message after message. It was as joyous as it was overwhelming.

Harry, bless the boy, did his best to distract her. Currently, he was laying perpendicular to her, head on her stomach, tracing his fingers on her rib cage.

“Looking for some attention there Harry?” she asked as he pressed on a particularly ticklish spot.

“Not necessarily,” he said. His other hand was holding his phone and he was scrolling through his feed. The World Cup was largely out of the news cycle, but the next wave of media engagements - TV appearances, endorsements, and some fanfare around next year’s session - would get started soon. Ginny had been deciding if she wanted to join or not. “Are you?”

Ginny had thrown her phone out of arm’s reach, but she felt ansty. So, she was playing with Harry’s hair, mussing it and then combing through it with her hands.

“I’m… fidgety again,” she said, not sure how else to word the feeling. “I got the email for the media tour.”

Harry put his phone down and met her eyes, then raised his eyebrows. _You thinking about it?_ She could read his facial cues with ease these days, the perks of spending so much time together.

“I miss the team but I don’t want to travel yet,” she confessed. 

Harry let a beat of silence pass between them. “You want to be out there.”

Ginny scratched his head again. “Yeah. Like I’m part of something. 6 weeks ago I was sitting on the bench on the grandest stage and now I’m back home in bed like I’m 16 and dreaming about playing professionally…” she trailed off, remembering.

Growing up, her brothers did all they could to get her experience, but it wasn’t enough to play against her. They took turns driving her to club practice and helped Ginny fill her closet with cleats and shin guards and all the other expensive equipment club players needed to provide.

Investing in her had paid off, she thought. Still, to be in the same position, not feeling any different… wasn’t she supposed to?

“Hey Harry,” she said, sitting up on her elbows. Harry’s head dropped to her hip, and he rolled to look at her.

“Yeah Gin?”

“What if…”

Harry shook his head before she could finish her sentence. “You’re not washed up Gin,” he said, eyes suddenly serious. “Not till you get out there again and prove you’re not, and don’t ask me if you’ll get back into shape.”

Ginny let herself drop back to the bed and groaned. Harry, tired of shifting, sat up and straddled Ginny’s hips. 

“Hey Gin,” he said, setting his weight on his knees.

“Yeah Harry?”

“What if I-” his words were cut off by a strong tug. Ginny didn’t let him finish - she pulled him down on top of her and let him kiss her worries away. 

* * *

_(The next_ week)

“Dad, what did you do when you got injured?” asked Harry between shoving bites of grilled cheese into his mouth. Lily looked at him with concern. Had he been starving himself and not telling them?

“You mean when I broke my leg?” replied James. He was pointing his phone at his coffee -- he’d just poured cream over last night’s cold brew and was maneuvering the camera to catch the white trails mix into the dark.

“Yeah, when you had to sit out a year. How’d it feel?”

James’s head lifted above the camera as he looked at his son. Harry was growing up in front of him. Just 6 weeks ago he’d run straight out of the VIP box and onto the pitch as soon as he realized Ginny was hurt; now, he was asking the kind of questions someone asked when, well…

It was good that James could offer his son some answers, at least.

“I hated every minute of it,” he said. “Drove your mother crazy.”

“It’s true,” Lily chimed, setting down a smoothie in front of each of them.

“Thanks mum.”

“It took me three months before I finally let myself process how I was feeling,” James said, taking a spoonful of tomato soup. “Your mother flat out had to tell me that I needed to spend some time alone instead of using her as an emotional crutch.”

Harry looked over at Lily, who shrugged. It was probably odd to think of his parents as not being where they’re at - if he’d seen the fights they’d had when Harry was just a baby, James imagined that Harry’d have a completely different view of them.

“What was it like to go through that?” asked Harry, eventually. James let himself remember. 

“I had to get over the fact that Lily wasn’t the answer to my isolation.” he replied. “And that who I was as a person wasn’t any different because I couldn’t play soccer for that time being or even if I never played soccer again.”

Harry nodded - he was taking mental notes, and James smirked.

“Had to get past losing a world cup final too,” he added. “Something not everyone can relate.”

Harry, who’d been nodding and following with his eyes, suddenly jerked his head. “Am I that obvious dad?”

“Little bit,” Lily chimed in.

* * *

“Hey mum,” Ginny said, unsure how to get the conversion started. Molly, who’d just returned from the kitchen, didn’t give her the chance. She put a mug down by Ginny and started talking. 

“When I got pregnant with you, I was so sick of your father,” she started. Ginny took a sip of her tea. “Six kids already and all I wanted was for him to take the lot so I can be alone and let my pregnant self relax for a bit. There was always things to do. Poor Bill had it the worst.”

Ginny nodded. She’d heard stories of how hard it was for her parents growing up, and she was grateful of how much they’d given up to make sure even she and Ron had the same opportunities as the older brothers. 

“But I couldn’t do it without him, and it made me feel weak at first that I needed his help. It took a lot of holding Ron in one arm and rubbing my belly with you in it with the other to realize that I couldn’t wrangle the other 5 of your brothers without my arms. Your father was the one that held all of that together.”

It was odd for Molly to be vulnerable, but Ginny always knew she had a sixth sense when it came to her children. With Ginny especially - as the only daughter, Molly used to project a lot of her worries and hopes onto her. Nowadays, though, they’d started spending more time figuring out how to be mother and daughter while Ginny was off playing or studying. 

“It’s okay to need people dear. You’re still a soccer superstar, you’re just also still human. I can’t possibly understand the pressure your career’s put on you, but I understand relationships. You’re at a place where it’s okay to need him to do things for you.”

At the mention of Harry, Ginny froze behind her mug. Was she being so transparent in asking? Too late to turn back. “Even if it doesn’t work in the end?”

“You can’t know you can rely on him until you rely on him,” Molly responded, finally drinking out of her mug. “So why not risk it?”

* * *

Harry and Ginny looked at each other across the table. The restaurant, one of their favorite local dinner places, was relatively empty still. 

“So I’ve been doing some thinki-” Harry started, at the same time Ginny began: “Look, Harry I need to tell-”

They both froze.

“You first,” Harry said, waving his hands at her.

“No, yo- fine,” Ginny replied, realizing that Harry had stuck a giant fry in his mouth. “Fine. Uh, well last week I had a conversation with my mum.”

Harry nodded.

“It’s really hard to sit out with an injury right now,” Ginny said. She flexed her leg under the table and her foot brushed up against Harry's shin. “And I think I’ve been trying to stay as independent as possible to control what I can. But I also think I haven’t been letting you take care of me.”

It was Ginny’s turn to stick a fry in her mouth. It was hot, but she gripped the hem of her dress and waited for Harry’s reply.

It wasn’t that she was nervous, but being so candid about the role they wanted to play in each others’ lives…. It was a big step.

Harry swallowed and took a sip of water before speaking.

“I talked to my dad about the time he got injured…” he said sheepishly, messing the back of his hair. “He told me how important it was to have space for himself to figure out life without soccer for a bit, even if it was temporary. Turns out my mom had to yell at him to actually go spend time alone.” 

Harry looked past Ginny for a moment, seeing the summer sunset behind her. It reminded him of the first time they’d met in the late summer, playing soccer while tipsy and humid. How badly he’d wanted to kiss her against the grass.

“Basically I’m saying… I’m here when you need me but I get that you need to do things your way. And I want to support that.”

Ginny blinked a few times, and felt a warm blush creep onto her cheeks. “I need your help Harry, but if we’re going to make this… well…” Ginny paused. They hadn’t talked about any next steps yet, but she could feel her heart beating fast. Faster than running full sprint on the pitch.

“...if we’re going to figure things out for the future…” Ginny trailed off. Harry’s eyes were a glowing brilliant green focused right at her. It was horribly distracting.

“Yeah,” he said, breathing. “We’ll have to figure all this out.” He pointed vaguely at her leg, and then at the space between them.

They looked at each other silently. Something had changed in the air in between them and neither of them knew how to place it, so they waited. Until the door to the patio opened and their waitress came out with their order.

The food broke the spell. Ginny was starving and Harry took a giant gulp of water before looking at her once more time.

“Hey Gin,” he said, eyes soft and welcoming. Ginny could feel the warmth of his gaze linger in her chest.

“Yeah Harry?” she said, voice quiet

“I love you.”

The way Harry’s face broke into a smile made Ginny want to capture the moment and keep it for the rest of her life.

“Love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> drop me a note! still thinking about what the next in the series will be


End file.
